


Broken

by Jerzeyanjel



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerzeyanjel/pseuds/Jerzeyanjel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place after the end of season 3. Goes a bit AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

Mickey was broken. Fucking broken and there was nothing anyone could do to help him. Mandy tried, his brothers tried. Everyone tried but Mickey was still a broken mess. Ian was gone. Half of Mickey was gone and left in his place was a broken, fucked up shell of a man. Svetlana couldn’t take it and was gone before the ink on the marriage license was dry. Mumbling some nonsense about the baby not being his and disappearing. 

If Mickey had a thought or an argument he didn’t bother with them, just watched her go, his deep blue eyes blank. Nothing mattered now. Nothing at all without Gallagher. 

He barely left his room, barely showered, barely ate. He drank himself silly though with anything he could get his hands on. It didn’t matter as long as it dulled the pain. Dulled the sensations. Dulled the loss. 

At first he was angry. So fucking angry … angry at himself and angry at Ian. 

Mickey wanted to scream when Ian announced he was leaving, he wanted to grab him and shake him and say what the fuck man. How can you leave your family? How can you leave your life? How the fuck can you leave me? But the only thing that would come out of his mouth was “Don’t..”

“Don’t what?” Ian asked shocked to hear the misery in Mickey’s voice. 

And all Mickey could do was sigh, his voice catching and tears pooling in his eyes. 

He wished Ian would just see what he was trying to say. Just know it without Mickey actually having said the words. But Ian needed more and Mickey couldn’t give it to him. And it killed him to watch Ian walk out the door and out of his life. 

Mandy came in after Ian left, called him a pussy and Mickey couldn’t even deny it. He was a pussy. A fucking pussy who couldn’t admit what he wanted, what he loved, what he had just destroyed. 

Mickey cried that day, weeping bitterly, tears streaming down his face. 

But it didn’t help. The alcohol helped. The smoking helped. As long as his senses were dull Ian couldn’t creep up on his thoughts and wind around his heart. Mickey wouldn’t hear his voice in his head and feel the lingering touches Ian’s hands left on his skin. 

A week passed and then another, a month and six more and still no Ian. Time didn’t help Mickey either. Mandy tried to get him to wake up, to get him to feel anything but Mickey would just scream at her until she left. He wanted to be alone, to be solitary in his misery. To wrap himself in his blankets and just be.

If he had the balls to hurt himself he would have. He tried once. Snuck into the bathroom when no one was home and debated which bottle of pills would be lethal enough with the right alcohol to kill him. But that was such a pussy move and he berated himself before he put the pills back and just drowned his sorrows with booze. 

Anything that reminded Mickey of Ian was thrown away while Mickey was sober. Sober meant being able to feel. And seeing anything that reminded him of his love was too much. Anything red in the house was destroyed, anything at all that reminded Mickey of Ian was gone, demolished beyond recognition. 

Mickey tried not to think of Ian, and succeeded when he was drunk. But at night that changed. Sober … drunk it didn’t matter. As soon as Mickey’s eyes closed there was Ian. His green eyes shining, that teasing smirk on his face. Mickey would feel his heart swell and he would run to him, throw his arms around his red head and hold on for all it was worth. 

In his dreams Mickey was happy and so was Ian. In his dreams Mickey told Ian he loved him, that he never wanted to be away from him. That Terry didn’t matter and they would always be together. In his dreams Mickey wasn’t afraid of what he felt and wasn’t afraid to be himself. 

In his dreams Mickey had Ian. 

When he woke up it would be chaos and Mickey would awake in a panic, barely breathing and wishing to any God that would listen that he could fall back asleep and find himself in Ian’s arms again. But nothing divine listened to him and he would start drinking early on those days. 

Some dreams were bad. Sometimes they were fighting, beating the crap out of each other and hurling the most horrible words at each other. Sometimes they were sickeningly sweet, living together, married with a child. Sometimes they were passionate. 

_“Oh god Mick…” Ian groaned as Mickey deep throated him and swallowed._

_Mickey knew how to drive Ian crazy and used his abilities for all they were worth, sucking and licking, kissing and biting. Ian’s hands fisted in Mickey’s hair and rocked his hips in time to Mickey’s mouth. With an especially deep suck, Ian pulled Mickey up and pushed him forward against the wall, pulled his hips back and rammed into him._

_“Fuck yeah Gallagher,” Mickey grunted as he saw stars._

_Ian rained kisses down Mickey’s shoulders and gripped Mickey’s sides so tight that he knew there would be bruises tomorrow._

_Ian speed up, slamming his hips into Mickey, driving him to the edge only to slow down._

_“Fuck … faster,” Mickey barked and felt Ian smile against his shoulder blades. Ian stopped altogether and pulled Mickey against him, his back flush with Ian’s front. Before Mickey could protest his back was arched and Ian kissed along his neck, up his ear, sucking his skin and leaving marks. Mickey turned his face to Ian and kissed him, just as Ian started moving again._

_Ian had one hand on Mickey’s cock, the other on his neck, stroking in tandem with his thrusts._

_Mickey was close and Ian knew it. Knew it in how Mickey’s body tensed around him. He handled him roughly as Mickey fell apart, his come hitting his hand and the wall in front of him. Ian groaned low and went with him, filling him with everything he had._

Those were the worst for Mickey, waking up with his cock aching, his body empty and no amount of touching would relieve the pressure. His hands weren’t Ian’s. His touches didn’t match Ian’s. It just reminded him more and more of Ian’s absence.

One night while sober he thought he’d go out, see if someone else could catch his eye. Thinking that if he had someone else, if he could fuck someone else he could get over Gallagher. So he took a shower and he got dressed. He sauntered into the Alibi and sat at the bar. Kev had a beer ready for him and handed it to him with a concerned look on his face. Mickey just grunted thanks and drank deep, and then another and another. No one interesting came in. And those that did didn’t have red fiery hair and gleaming green eyes. 

So he squashed that, went home and lifted the vodka bottle to his mouth and gulped deep. No one could compare to his firecrotch. 

So instead Mickey continued to live in his misery, continuously drunk and not giving a fuck about anything. That is until he found a picture he had hidden a long time ago. It hurt to look at Ian’s smiling face, it hurt not to look at it. Mickey debated ripping it up and burning it but every time he went to crumple the picture Ian’s face seemed to mesmerize him and he would put the picture away. In a safe place where he would find it whenever he wanted. It was the only thing he had left of Ian, the only thing he wanted to keep. The only thing he wanted to remember. The only thing he could put on the pillow next to him and pretend Ian was in bed with him.

The dream he had that night was especially bad. That’s the night Mickey dreamed Ian died. 

Mickey woke up gasping and screaming, his heart pounding and tears sliding down his face. Mandy heard him and came crashing into the room just as Mickey screamed again. She wrapped her arms around him and held him as he cried, brokenly. Saying Ian’s name over and over. She played with his dark locks, winding them around her fingers as his sobs quieted.

She had never seen her brother like this. For the last year he had been a drunken mess but he hadn’t cried, or she had never seen him. But this? This was unfathomable and Mandy couldn’t help the tears that fell for her brother. Her heart broke for him and for Ian. Both so stupid to realize that they were pining for the other, both broken and not knowing how to repair things. 

Mandy held her brother for a long time, rocking him while murmuring soft words. Mickey soon gave into exhaustion and believed Mandy’s promises that Ian was still alive and fell into a quiet sleep. Mandy pulled the covers carefully over him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“I’ll find him,” she whispered before she shut his door. She went into her room and grabbed her phone, her fingers punching the letters angrily. This has gone on too far and much too long and it was about fucking time things were fixed. 

*~*

Ian’s heart broke the minute he left Mickey’s house. The minute Mickey couldn’t ask him to stay. The minute Mickey chose to live a life built on a lie then be with him. Ian couldn’t live with being second best anymore, being a secret. It was too much and it made Ian feel dirty and not worthy. He wanted more, he needed more. He wanted to have all of Mickey, not some half assed version that Mickey was offering. It was all or none with Ian and Mickey chose none. That’s not true, Ian made Mickey choose and Ian knew that. He hated it that he did that but it had to be done. He had to know.

Was it so bad that Ian wanted the whole package? Not just a few quick fucks? He didn’t think so and when Mickey chose to let him leave Ian knew where he stood. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It broke Ian down, broke his heart into little pieces and he was grateful to have somewhere to run. Enlisting in the Army was the easiest thing for him. He couldn’t stay in Southside anymore, near his family … near Mickey. He needed to just be gone. To be absent and as he got on the bus to the base he finally felt like he had something to hold onto. 

It was hard in those first few weeks. So incredibly hard. Ian missed Mickey so much that he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. He kept checking his phone, his finger wavering over Mickey’s name just waiting to press send. But he didn’t do it. He couldn’t do it. Mickey didn’t want him; he wanted the life with the wife and the baby. Not the all consuming love that they shared. 

Texts from Mandy weren’t enough and Ian didn’t have the nerve to ask about Mickey was or even if the baby was born. He thought Mandy would just tell him but she didn’t and he didn’t ask. 

Instead Ian threw himself into his job, getting the hang of things early on. He lived for the run, for the fight. He lived for the terror and the excitement. He lived to feel like his life was on the edge. Until they were shipped out. Then he was terrified. On base during maneuvers it was easy, pretending they were in the Middle East and fighting each other was fun. He honestly didn’t think he would end up shipped out and actually be in the the desert. 

It was there that the dreams started. At first they were just of Mickey and his laughter. His smiles and smirks. But they soon turned dark. Mickey drinking. Mickey contemplating suicide. Mickey hurting himself. Ian would go to sleep anxious and wake up with his heart in his throat. 

The sex dreams started soon after. Memories of their moments together, all the times Ian thought Mickey was going to say those three magical words. Those killed Ian most of all. He would wake up hard and aching. He would reach for Mickey only to feel a cold bed next to him and remember that Mickey wasn’t there. He would feel his loss all over again like it was day one. 

It was an endless cycle. Just when Ian thought he would be ok a dream, a memory, a song … something would pull him back and he would ache with his damaged heart again. 

He stupidly thought if he could be with someone else that maybe he wouldn’t hurt so much but there wasn’t anyone. None of the guys in his brigade appealed to him and he just couldn’t even attempt. It was too much. 

Ian had just returned to the states after his stint in the desert when Mandy started calling and texting with more urgency.

Mandy had texted him a few days ago begging him to come home. She had been begging for the last six months, telling him how bad Mickey was. That he had sunk into darkness and nothing she tried was helping. She yelled at him during phone calls and begged again to the point of tears pleading with him to come home. 

It was the last text that she sent that got him. 

_Tonight has been the worst yet. You need to get the fuck home Ian. He needs you! Please Ian! If he means anything to you you’ll get your ass home!_

That was three days ago. He didn’t text her back and she hadn’t sent him anything after that. He wanted to ask where Svetlana was, why Mickey’s wife wasn’t taking care of him. Why the fuck it mattered if Ian came home. But he didn’t ask.

Instead he told his superiors that he needed to go on leave. That there was a family emergency and he had to go home. Within two days he was on a bus home, his stuff packed in his Army issued duffle bag.

The draw to Mickey was needy and stifling and he had been fighting not coming home for a while now. It was time to end the fight and just give in. 

Being back in Southside was eye opening. Home was supposed to feel well … like home. Nothing at all felt like it should. 

Ian walked up to the familiar house that just didn’t feel like home anymore. He stared up at the lights gleaming warmly in the windows and struggled with going in. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in his family in months. Not since he left. He sent letters, he sent texts but that was about all he could do. If he had allowed himself to feel more than he already was he would have drowned so instead of trying to make others feel ok he worried selfishly only about himself. He was in charge of his own mind and that was all that mattered. He could hear laughter and music and he felt like an intruder crashing their parade. He wasn’t ready to face them, to face their anger and their feelings of abandonment. So instead of visiting his family he walked away, not knowing where he was going only knowing that he had to be away.

It was no surprise when Ian found himself standing outside the Milkovich house. Only one light was gleaming in the window and the house looked as dismal as he had ever seen it. This house held a lot of regret to him, a lot of heartbreak and Ian contemplated whether or not he wanted to go inside. If he could really deal with the breaking of his heart all over again.

But something grabbed a hold of him and before he knew it he was knocking on the door. The door opened by itself and Ian took a breath before walking inside. 

He moved into the living room and saw a ton of empty beer and alcohol bottles and the tv was on but no one was in there. He went further into the house and still saw no one. He cast a look at Mickey’s door, the “Stay the fuck out!” sign still on. His heart lurched but he opened the door anyways. 

He didn’t know what he expected to find but a figure huddled under a bunch of blankets was not one of them. 

“Mick?” Ian asked walking around the bed slowly. 

The figure on the bed didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge his voice. Ian saw that it was Mickey or someone who vaguely looked like Mickey. This person looked … desperately broken. The sight splintered something inside Ian and he dropped to his knees and ran a hand along Mickey’s face. Mickey eyes opened and Ian was faced with a wall of cool blue. 

Those same blue eyes that tortured him the last few months were staring at him blankly. 

“Mick?” Ian tried again, winding his hand in Mickey’s hair. Mickey’s eyes seemed to get a little brighter and he opened his mouth. 

“Leave me alone.”

Ian was taken aback, he wanted to snatch his hand away and run but he didn’t. He dropped his duffle off his shoulder and sat on the floor, his hands still on Mickey’s face. 

“You’re not real,” Mickey said looking right at Ian. “You’re just here to torment me.”

Ian opened his mouth to tell him he was here but Mickey kept talking.

“I’m sorry firecrotch. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Mickey whispered brokenly.  
“Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

Ian’s eyes welled up and he nodded, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Mickey blinked and his eyes fell shut again. Ian stayed where he was, sitting on the floor, his hands in Mickey’s hair. He felt the wetness on his face and didn’t realize he was crying until Mandy sat down next to him. She put her arm around him and hugged him. 

“Thank you,” she breathed.

They were silent for a long time, Mandy with her arm around Ian and both watching Mickey sleep. 

Ian had so many questions, so many things were not making sense. How long had Mickey been like this? Why hadn’t she called him earlier? What could he do now? 

“How long has he been like this?” Ian asked.

“This bad? About a month.”

“And you’re just telling me about it? Fuck Mandy why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I did Ian. I told you it was getting worse. I was trying to handle it. Trying to take care of him but it’s not me that he needs…” she trailed off when Ian’s eyes swung to meet her gaze. 

“Where’s his wife? Where’s the baby?” he demanded.

“Gone. Baby wasn’t his and when he fell into this black hole she couldn’t take it and left.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? And you didn’t think that was relevant to tell me months ago?”

“You never asked asshole. What was I supposed to do?”

“You should have told me. Fuck he should have told me!” Ian whispered shouted. 

“Ian... keep your fucking voice down,” Mandy warned as Mickey stirred. 

Ian immediately calmed and stroked his hand along Mickey’s hair. It didn’t matter, Ian was here now and that was what counted. What mattered now was getting Mickey better. 

“Where do we start?” Ian asked quietly. 

“Depends. What are you going to do?” Mandy questioned. “About the Army.” She said when Ian looked at her. 

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I have a month off now. I told them there was a family emergency. Let’s see how the month plays out first. I can take more time if needed.”

“And that’s it? You’ll help my brother only to turn around and leave again?”

“What? No! I can move him in with me or I can see if I can transfer bases closer. I’m not going anywhere Mandy,” Ian said as he put his arms around her, enfolding her in a hug. “I’m not leaving again.”

“I’m going to hold you to that fuckface,” she threatened softly. 

That night Ian slept on the floor next to Mickey’s side of the bed. He had only been asleep a few hours when he woke to the sounds of struggling and stifled screams. He instantly sat up and checked on Mickey who was tangled in his bed sheets. His hand covering his mouth to stop the screams that wanted to break forth. His eyes were closed and Ian knew he was caught in a dream. 

Ian touched his face again and Mickey seemed to calm, ceased his struggling and his breathing evened out. 

“I’m right here,” he whispered in Mickey’s ear and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

He made sure Mickey was asleep again before he laid down and fell into his own deep sleep. 

*~*

Mickey woke first hours later. The sun was peeking through dingy curtains casting an orange glow about the room. Mickey wanted to pull the blankets over his head but something out of the corner of his eye made him stop. There was a large duffle bag by the window. It said US ARMY on the olive material. Mickey blinked and wondered where the hell that came from. 

He heard a soft sound coming from the floor next to his bed and he slowly rolled over and looked down. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock he received. 

There was a man sleeping on his floor. His soft red hair glinting in the sun’s rays, his back rising and falling with his breath, he was on his stomach facing away from Mickey. 

Is that Ian? Mickey thought as he reached a shaky hand out. No way was Ian here. 

It’s just a figment of my imagination, it has to be. But as his fingers touched flesh he gave out a tiny gasp. He ran his hand along Ian’s shoulder relishing in the feel of his skin. 

“Ian?” he whispered, his voice barely a sound. Ian didn’t move. “Gallagher?” he said a little louder.

“Hmm…” 

“Are you real?” 

Ian rolled over and opened his eyes. Mickey was peering at him from the edge of the bed, his hand still on Ian’s shoulder. 

“Yes,” Ian answered leaning into his hand. 

“What are you doing here?” Mickey asked his fingers trailing along Ian’s jaw. 

“Wanted to see you,” Ian answered honestly. 

“When did you get here?” 

“Last night.”

Mickey seemed to think about that. His eyes closing and then opening again. 

“Why are you on the floor?” he asked. 

“I didn’t want to sleep in the living room. I wanted to be close to you,” Ian said softly.

Mickey nodded, seemingly ok with his answer and pulled his hand back from Ian’s face. “Ok.” 

While Mickey went back to sleep Ian got up and showered and attempted to get the house in order. At least if the house was clean other things wouldn’t seem so chaotic. So Ian went around picking up all the empty beer bottles, various alcohol bottles and emptied the ash trays. 

Mandy came out of her room dressed in her uniform and watched Ian for a bit. She asked how things went last night, if Mickey had any bad dreams and Ian told her about the one episode. He also told her about what Mickey did this morning. Mandy was surprised but didn’t show it. She knew having Ian here would make all the difference in the world. 

“I’ve got to go to work. I’ll be home in a few hours. If you need me or he does text me,” Mandy told Ian on her way out. Ian just nodded and continued his cleaning. 

It was after 2 by the time Ian was done with all the major rooms except Mickey’s bedroom. He tried to be as quiet as he could when he opened the door and was surprised to see Mickey sitting up in his bed. 

“Mick … how you feeling?” 

“Fucking confused,” he answered drily. 

Ian cocked his head to the side and asked, “Why?”

Mickey couldn’t answer right away. He just stared at Ian drinking in his appearance. It had been so long since he laid eyes on him it was hard to look away. So Mickey didn’t. He just stared and got his fill in case Ian was going to leave again. 

Ian equally couldn’t keep his eyes off Mickey. It was wonderful to see him awake and his blue eyes open. Ian still thought he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Ian longed to sit on the side of the bed with Mickey but hesitated. He didn’t want to push him more than needed. So he stood at the foot of the bed and waited. 

“I dreamt you died,” Mickey said softly his sky blue eyes still on Ian. 

“I dreamt you tried to kill yourself,” Ian told him and watched the look of shock wash over Mickey’s face. 

“I didn’t exactly try,” he admitted. 

“What the fuck Mick?”

“What? I said I didn’t fucking try Gallagher. I just thought about it.”

“Again what the fuck?” Ian demanded. 

“You were gone! You were fucking gone!”

“So what? You don’t try to hurt yourself!”

“Oh and running off to the fucking Army wasn’t a death sentence?”

“We aren’t talking about me!”

“Yeah? Well maybe we should asshole.”

They were both shouting but neither cared. The emotions were high and things needed to be said.

“Go ahead Mick. What do you want to say?”

“Really want to know tough guy?” Mickey screamed as he leapt to his feet. 

“Yeah I really do!” Ian yelled right back. 

“You left me! You up and fucking left and didn’t look back!”

“You chose that whore over me! You didn’t want me! I wasn’t enough for you!”

“Are you fucking high? I’ve wanted you since you poked me with that damn tire iron. You were always enough!” Mickey cried stepping right up to Ian, their bodies touching. 

“You have a fucked up way of showing it. It doesn’t matter anyways. You still picked her over me.”

Mickey sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

“I didn’t pick her. I was forced to. I wanted you. I always wanted you.”

“And how was I supposed to know that? It’s not like you’re open with everything. You hide a ton of shit from me. I can’t read your fucking mind.”

“Because … you’re supposed to know. You’re supposed to just know,” Mickey said jabbing his finger in Ian’s chest.

“How am I supposed to do that when you push me away constantly? Behind closed doors you are all over me but the minute anyone sees any kind of anything between us I’m shoved so fucking far away it’s like I’m in another state!” Ian exploded grabbing Mickey by the shoulders. 

“Christ Ian … I never wanted you to leave,” Mickey said putting his hands on Ian’s face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in fucking love with you. How could you even doubt it?”

The anger deflated in Ian so fast he sagged. How could he doubt it? Mickey wasn’t one to fucking blurt out what he feels all the time. He blinked hard, his vision swimming thankful he had a hold of Mickey’s arms. 

“I didn’t want to leave. It broke my heart to turn my back on you. The last thing in the world I wanted was to be away from you. I love you so much Mickey,” Ian said gently.

Mickey nodded, his blue eyes boring into Ian’s green ones before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on Ian’s lips. 

“There’s never been anyone but you,” Mickey whispered against Ian’s mouth. 

Ian’s heart flip flopped inside his chest and he couldn’t help the tear that slide down his cheek. With a burning look Ian cupped Mickey’s face in his hands and kissed him. His mouth moving lazily against Mickey’s, relishing his taste. 

Their time apart seemed to melt away and their kissing became more frenzied, more passionate. Soon they were tearing at each other’s clothes, old habits die hard. The act of intimacy much more important than the words they had to say. Needing to touch the other, needing to express everything that was pounding in their hearts. 

“I love you Mick,” Ian breathed as he slid into Mickey’s burning heat. 

“Love you firecrotch…” Mickey moaned as Ian started to move within him.

No more words were needed, their act of love already showing the other all that they needed to know. This was meant to be. This was their true love. This was home. This was their happily ever after.

*~* 

When Mandy came home she was shocked at how spotless the house was. She crept quietly into her brother’s room to tell Ian what an amazing job he did but didn’t get the chance. There on the bed were Ian and Mickey. Ian was wrapped around Mickey’s back, spooning him with his arm thrown over Mickey’s side and was holding onto his hand. They were both deeply asleep and Mandy blushed, knowing she walked in on something incredibly intimate. Softly she shut the door and her face broke out into a wide smile. She took a deep breath and a feeling of relief flowed through her.

Ian was back. Mickey was back. 

Things were finally going to be ok. Just the way they were supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first full story Shameless story I've finished. Be kind, leave kudos, throw comments my way. I want to know what you guys think!


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